Join the Poetry Friday round-up at Violet’s place.
For Mother’s Day, I spent the weekend in New Orleans with my daughters. Katherine and I went to church on Sunday morning on the campus of Tulane, The Chapel of the Holy Spirit, where the Reverend Minka Sprague, close friend of my parents, was preaching. I am a word collector, and in her sermon, Minka used the term anastasis to refer to the resurrection. I recorded a Soundcloud of the portion where she spoke of its Greek meaning.
Minka’s words, the beautiful day, and the resurrection feeling I get when I visit New Orleans came together in this poem.
Anastasis
The storm cloud moves,
a hole of blue,
lined in shining white,
opens–
this is sky.When you feel fear,
say your name.
To say your name,
breathe–
this is air.On a Sunday in May,
flooded New Orleans streets,
blooming jasmine
reflect–
this is resurrection.
Hear the full sermon here.
Poetry news: Amy VanderWater has adopted a manatee over at The Poem Farm in honor of my students who wrote manatee poems. You can read them at our ongoing kidblog site. Today is our final day of school (report card hand-out), but I hope some of my students will continue to write and post over the summer.
Reflections on the Teche 
It’s a lovely reflection of your time with your daughters, Margaret, I like the rhythm of the poem, those last lines of the verse!
Forgot to say have a wonderful last day, Margaret. We have two more weeks!
Thanks for this moment of spiritual loveliness :).
What scope for imagination and thought she inspired in her definition of anastasis. I will never think of the word ‘resurrection’ in quite the same way. Your poem is a perfect response.
Enjoy your summer holiday! (Canadian teachers will be green with envy. They have another month of school and, in our province, labor relations problems added to the mix.)
I love the self-confidence of this poem, Margaret– especially in the last line of each stanza. Just reading it makes you breathe deeply.
Happy summer break to you! According to my children (who are counting down), we have 9 days left.
Happy end of school! The contrasts in your poem remind me of Julie Larios’ post this week.